


Masculinity Complex [DISCONTINUED]

by OmegaWolfy



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: AU, Bad things can and will happen, CYOA, Card Games, Character Death, Choose Your Own Adventure, Death Threats, Depending on the choice triggers may appear, F/M, History of abuse, Hit man, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mentions of past abuse, Plot is finally picking up, Poker, Russian Roulette, Strip Poker, Subject for rate change, Underage Drinking, Weapons, based off of an RP, dark Gladion, dark characters, dark team skull, everything is just dark, mafia, more real life things, no actual pokemon, no one is like they are in the games, possible triggers, toxins, what is this cards against humanity?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-09-09 23:18:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8917042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OmegaWolfy/pseuds/OmegaWolfy
Summary: Rewrite in progress;This will be deleted once it's done.





	1. Ready, Aim, Fire.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dragongirl44](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragongirl44/gifts), [TheTofuEatingCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTofuEatingCat/gifts).



   "Yo," one of the blue-haired buffoons attempted in greeting another member of their  _ family. _ If there was anything Gladion didn’t get about these places, was how everyone said they were family, yet wouldn’t hesitate to pump their veins with lead.

    Either way, a grunt had approached Gladion, who shot them a glare. Most of these idiots knew he didn't like to be bothered, especially when he was cleaning his handgun. The weapon in question had been his pride since he left the Aether Paradise, and he kept it tip top condition. Before him, a small case of items which went with the gun; silencer, cleaned and put away, clip to hold extra bullets, still on the table waiting to be swabbed, a few brightly shined bullets, the metal reflecting light similarly to chrome. Each bullet hand cast by the group. On one side, a skill etched into the metal. On the other, beveled outward. It made the bullets extremely unbalanced, and very difficult to fire. Which was one reason Gladion was the only one to use them.   
  
    "You have ten seconds before there's a bullet through your head." The platinum blonde's tone is monotonous, and there is no room left for doubt on whether he was bluffing or not.   
  
    "Oh-um. I-"   
  
    "Five seconds."   
  
    "Some's got information 'bout ya - I didn't read it, but it's online!" He sputters, and Gladion rolled the gun in his hand slowly, it was still loaded, but the chamber had been spun.  He spins it again. There should be two bullets inside of it. Those were some nice odds. Felt like it stopped three chambers in front of the next bullet, and directly behind the last.   
  
    "Kanto Roulette," He gives a cruel smirk turning the barrel to his own head and cocking the gun. He pulls the trigger and nothing. Just a click. Exactly what he expected. "Tell me where to find the information, after you pull the trigger." He turns the gun in his hand, so the handle faces the grunt.   
  
    The other male is shaking as he takes the gun, it was either play along and live, or play along and die. And if he were to die, a death like this would be much better than what Gladion would do if he refused. Muttering prayers, and making a cross over his chest, the male does the same, the barrel shaking against his temple and his heart nearly stopped when he was able to pull the weapon away. He nearly collapsed as he handed the gun back.   
  
     "It - one of the other grunts. She was on Tumbler - or, or Redit. She said there was a lot a' information on ya." He is scared shitless, and the fact is painfully obvious to Gladion, and quite annoying as well, until he gets a username from the blubbering fool. Who also makes a convenient excuse to leave. As soon as he's gone, Gladion goes back to cleaning his gun. The username saved in his mental storage.   
  
    Member of a Mafia going by the name of Team Skull. This place was pretty much full of rejects wanting to get back at the people who made them turn to the worst means of life. A few years ago the team sprung up from what seemed like nothing. Drug trafficking bringing in money like it was going out of style. The hot tropical temperatures and vast amount of rains around Po-Town made it as easy as drop some seeds, and wait for it, there were the crops a few months later.   
    Everyone in this run down shit hole had a job, and Gladion wanted nothing to do with the drugs, it wasn't for him. There were plenty of idiots who could dry up leaves and crinkle them up. He wasn't about to get his hands dirty. Because blood wasn't really dirty. Everyone had it, so it couldn't be something bad.      Even still, he sure as hell wouldn’t admit against a few puffs here and then. That wouldn't hurt anything, but he would never say he was addicted. Quite the opposite really. He usually only hit a blunt if he got too pissed off at someone, and he knew it would be more of a hassle to kill them than not.   
    No, the platinum blonde had talents elsewhere. He could shoot, well. Well enough to catch the boss's eye, and he had pretty good aim himself. Gladion had been hired as their assassin. He preferred Hitman, though. Killing someone was easy, especially with a bullet with no maker's mark, or way to be traced back to the shooter.   
    Even still, with his skills with a gun, Gladion knew he wasn't trusted in their little organization. The boss seemed to like him enough, and that was all he really needed. Well, besides to complete his long term goals, but that information isn't really needed yet. This might not get that far. But some background would be nice.   
    There was a reason most of the grunts wouldn't talk to him, and it wasn't the cold demeanor or death threats, more so where he had been before joining Skull.   
    Unlike many regions where there was typically one large gang, in Alola (much like Hoenn) there were two. The Aether's had the public wrapped around their finger, a gang for the common person, but really they were more corrupt than Skull. Human, animal, machinery, weapons, these and more were sold to the highest bidder within that place. And the public thought drug trafficking was the worst of their problems. 

    As Lusamine’s son, Gladion was suppose to be the heir to all that. He refused to have any of it, it was dirtier money than drug money. Then again, not to mention his mother had gone sick in the mind when her husband left. Now she had some rare animals frozen in blocks of ice on display, treated everyone as though she loved them but would sooner shove them onto a stake. He recalled once remembering a movie quote, _ Ice 'em _ . That didn't sit well with the boy for a while.   
    Aether and Skull were always butting heads. The Skull people knew there was something going on with Aether, that some random organization shouldn't be able to have any of the funds that could knock them out, yet Aether seemed to spend money as though they literally printed it. (Then again, Gladion had seen quite a few plates which looked much like money. But what did he know? Everyone there just saw him as some stupid kid.)   
    Which may explain what he was doing in Skull. At least within the organization, he was free from doubt. Everyone knew he was worth something, and many feared him for it. He liked being feared.   
    But, getting back to the matter at hand….

     Gladion knew the internet was forever and all, so he took his sweet time finishing his job. Once his gun was replaced back in the small case, he located his phone, the screen cracked in the upper right corner - he would replace it after he got some pay from the job he just did. Gladion punched in his overly complicated password and booted up both sites which were mentioned. When a username on one was unreliable he found the next one. Instead of surprise, his eyes narrowed as he read over the article. 

    ' _ Member of Skull - Once an Aether!' _ This was irritating and hit too close to the mark. He didn't see any mentions of his current position or exact relation into his past affiliations. He stood up and went through the mansion looking for one of the few helpful grunts. A hacker, he set his small bulletproof case down and put the screen in front of the girl.    
    "I want to know where to find the author." He says in an irritated husk, "And quickly." She's already typing away at one of the few remaining working computers.   
     "I.P. Address..." She reads off an impossibly long number with points, and dashes, while writing down something completely unrelated. "Yeah, on the island, I'd say around..." She's jotting some more information and hands a slip to Gladion. "Whoever it is, they were usin' a public access, might be gone relatively soon." She's going back to work, but Gladion is leaving. He's got a new personal score to settle. Only good thing, (he had looked at the slip), Malie was on the same island as Po-Town. He was out, and calling on one of the Skull cabs. Pretty much some of the local Cab companies were in the good graces of Skull. They would drive them anywhere, and they would be protected from enemies.   
  
    Gladion checked his phone. The drive wasn't too long, but Malie was a somewhat large city. And if the author of the article had left right away, they could be literally anywhere in the city, or moving elsewhere at that very moment. He opens his case, pulling his clean gun free from the hard packing foam cut out. He slides it into his waistband and pockets the silencer and a few bullets. He planned on shooting, getting information, shooting, and over again until he was satisfied. Anyone who had information on him could be the enemy, or frankly very stupid to put it where it could be found. And he really disliked the crude (yet unrecognizable) image claiming to have him in it. The cab stopped in front of - a library. He didn't make any noise or outward appearance of his annoyance, but he was definitely unhappy. There could be a lot of people in there, all of them using the connection. And without knowing who wrote the article, he had no leads.   
    His phone buzzed.   
_  The connection with the computer I.P went dead. Might want to hurry up if you plan on catching the person. _ __  
    Getting out, he takes his case and walks into the library. The person at the desk didn't seem too impressed with him, so he moves his hand against his jacket, making sure the gleam of his weapon could be seen. The woman goes rigid.   
    "I'm going to ask you a few questions, you will respond with yes, or no. Got it?"   
    "Y-yes." She looks ready to pass out, but that wouldn't be favorable.   
    "Good. I'm looking for someone who connected to your internet, approximately ninety minutes ago and was online until recently. Possibly left. do you have an idea of who they are?"   
    "I-I think so-" His hand gets closer to the gun.   
    "Was that a yes, or no?"   
    "No-"   
    "Then answer me."   
    "Yes-" She looks like she could faint. And as though she wanted to give him all the information she had. But that wasn't the game Gladion was playing.   
    "Male?"   
    "No."   
    "Young?"   
    "Yes."    
    "Did she leave?"   
   "Yes."   
    "Did you see me here today?"   
    "Y-... No. No, no, no."   
    And he turns to leave, so he was looking for a younger woman, probably in, or just out of college. Had some kind of bag to keep her things...Definitely not a tourist, and would seem to blend in with the surroundings. Leaving the Library, Gladion looks around. The shopping districts were just south, The dump northwest.   
    His best guess was east, towards the Malie Gardens. He recalled apartments in that direction.    
    Gladion had a long stride, people saw him approaching, and promptly made all too much room for him to get past. He was to the garden in a few minutes. His gaze roams over the bridges of lounging people, a lot of the college students reading a book, or having a date. Some joggers going over the bridges, a Yoga class over by the temple. However, he spots a somewhat happy [hair colour] woman, younger, or so she appears from behind and has a bag similar to the shape of the one he imagined....He had a feeling he had found this '[Username]' character. And Gladion's gut feeling was rarely wrong. When it was, no one was left to know he had messed up. When he got closer, she was ordering shaved ice, and he pulls his gun from his hip, concealing it well as he comes up close behind her, the barrel against the small of her back.   
    "Make that two," He places a few bills on the counter. His body hid the weapon from others potentially nearby, and he leans in while the man behind the counter turns to get 'their' order.   
    "Make any motion or scream for help and everyone in the garden is dead." He warns softly, before leaning somewhat closer. "I want you to act like you know me, and tell me just what you know about 'Type: Null'." He whispers these words into the shell of her ear.   
    The fact the article which had been posted had his codename was less than amusing. Someone had started calling him a Nullifier about two years ago, and it had transformed into a code name when he joined up with the Skulls.   
  
    He is, although, somewhat impressed when she keeps up a facade, smiling and grabbing the shaved ice treats, and turning a bit slowly to make sure Gladion would move with her. Her calm made him almost certain she could be a member of Aether and was trying to lure him out.   
    This thought pissed him off.   
    They pass a trash can, where Gladin disposes his shaved ice. He pressed the barrel roughly to her, it would probably leave a mark.   
    "Do not press me." He growls slightly. "You've got three minutes to convince me I shouldn't kill you on the spot." His voice is taut, and his anger showing a bit. He was relatively short fused and being provoked with a public article about him made the male more than ready to go off.   
    He pulls the silencer from his pocket and pulls his hand back just far enough to twist the object into the barrel. He does this without letting his gaze leave the back of her head, Gladion was more than ready to shoot if she messed up.  


 

 

_What will you do?_

 

_-Answer him, fearful and weary of the weapon._

_-Answer him confidently, take a bite of the shaved ice._

_-Stutter, try to speak but break under pressure._

_-Say nothing, there's nothing in this city for you anyways, why continue on?_

_-Try to change the subject._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  __  
> What did you do?
> 
> _-Answer him, fearful and weary of the weapon. -3_  
>  _**-Answer him confidently, take a bite of the shaved ice.** -10_  
>    
>  _-Stutter, try to speak but break under pressure. -0_  
>  _-Say nothing, there's nothing in this city for you anyways, why continue on? -0_  
>  _-Try to change the subject. -0_  
> 

    Excitement, a bit of fear, and even curiosity was running throughout [Name]’s veins. Type: Null, in the flush, she had been warned by a few others following up the story that the assassin or hitman, or whatever he called himself, may show up to take out anyone who knew about it. (Or simply those stupid enough to make a post about it online.) Then again, there were a lot of things about him online, but most them of rumors or guesses.

    Thus far, the information which had been collected had been the background on his codename, and small hints as to where he had come from. No one had real proof of what he looked like, but there was a thorn in [Name]’s side who was claiming to have an idea. But here he was in the flesh. Now appearance gender confirmed. She turns her head slightly to gaze at him from the corner of her eyes. The barrel of the gun is pressed against her back harsher.

    “So, that much of the information was true.” There is a dry chuckle, and she takes the small plastic shovel from the shave ice and takes a bite. She hums, as though it tastes good. Really, it was remarkable she wasn’t dead. But this interested Gladion, typically the threat of a gun had people on the ground groveling for their lives.

    “You really are impatient.” She doesn't see it, but Gladion’s finger twitches, as though he’d really like to have shot her by now. “Seems like you’re quite confident in yourself too. Embracing an unknowing woman from behind? What nerve.” His teeth are grinding together, but she does hear him give an annoyed huff.

    “You’re going to delete that article.” His voice is still low, and somewhat dangerous. However, he’s cautious as well. As though he really doesn’t want to start a scene large enough for the entire park to go into a riot.

    Now, she names a noise as though contemplating the demand. “No, I don’t think so-” And before she can really finish the sentence, he has spun her around. The gun is now against her navel, and she can really get a good look at the man.

    Obviously, he didn’t like having someone talk back to him. His green eyes narrowed in hatred. His was wearing some kind of long sleeved black shirt, and a zip-up vest with a hood. Really, it looked more like a jacket with the sleeves ripped off.

    The only way to describe this guy was edgy. But not really the edgy that people laugh at, it was more like a dangerous edgy that you really shouldn’t mess with. (But that wasn’t really stopping [Name]. It should have, but it didn’t.)

    “Go ahead.” Her eyes narrow now. She seems to have lost interest in her shave ice, now. “Shoot me, get rid of me. Another Journalist will just replace me. I don’t have a family who will demand to keep the case open and I’ll be forgotten relatively soon.”

    To her surprise, the man does just the opposite, he actually takes the silencer off of his gun, pockets the piece, and slide the gun to the waistband of his torn jeans.

    “You have some fucking guts. What’s your birth name.” Not a question, definitely, not a question.

     “[Surname], [Name].” She doesn’t miss a beat. HE didn’t even have to give her time warnings. Well, the three minutes was just about up, and she actually convinced him not to kill her. Interesting, indeed.

    “I’ll say it once more, [Name].” His tone has become unreadable. “You  _ will _ delete the information you have on me, and write up a follow up that the data is unreliable.”

    “Won’t matter anyways, someone’s told me he’s got some pictures of you.” Gladion is reaching for his gun again, but [Name]’s gaze stays on him. She doesn’t even look somewhat afraid.

    “From a job you did yesterday. He was following that Aether guy you murdered. He’s always at the public announcements and everything, got you on his security cameras and everything. Or so he says, anyway.”

* * *

 

    “Date of birth, unknown. Gender, unknown. Appearance… Not confirmed.” Mumbling to herself, [Name] is going through and trying to butter up her article. She was writing in her computer program, as the wi-fi in her apartment had been shut off the week before. Luckily just about everything about the mafia Skull had been saved to her hard drives before then. She groans slightly. If he had actually gotten lucky and got actual pictures of Type: Null. She hissed, of course, he would get lucky.

    Picking up her phone, she realizes she’s low on data, and probably won’t have much of a chance to talk. But this guy was annoying and would respond quickly if anything.

    “ _ Why should I believe that you have pictures of the Nullifier?”  _ [Name] types out and gets a bunch of short little replies back. But most of them were unrelated to her question. Mostly him being pompous and saying he wanted to see her again.

    They had the unfortunate of actually meeting and now the ass hole wouldn’t leave her alone.

    “ _ Fine” _ he finally sends when she doesn’t respond to any of his other messages.  _ “You can see them if you promise to meet me somewhere, how about that old abandoned supermarket, over by Tapu.” _

    There is a pause, and he responds himself.  _ “See you there.” _ She gagged.

    Who was this guy? [Name] didn’t really know herself. He was a pretty good reporter, she’d give him that much. But he was annoying and full of himself, to begin with. Went by the username “DarkKing” with a shit ton of unnecessary numbers after it. Or maybe there was just a lot of people with the username ‘DarkKing’. Who knows.

    [Name] can tell she’s pissed him off, again. If it’s not the ever deeper scowl on his face, maybe it was the way he actually turned away from her. When his gaze finds [Name] again, he has come up with a different plan of action.

    “You’re gong to contact this guy - and get the images from him.” His voice is taut, and there is suddenly a bit of fear rising in [Name].

    “He already wants me to meet him outside of Tapu at the old Super Market.”

    “When?”

    “Tonight.”

    “Will he have the images?”

    “Probably, I think he was planning to make a deal with me. He focuses on trying to uncover whatever is going on in Aether Foundation. He doesn’t care about Skull, but if it profits him he doesn’t care, he’ll use it.”

   "I may not have your parents lives to threaten, but I don't take you as a very selfish person, [Name]..." He has a glove on one hand and he takes her chin a bit roughly.   
    "If you go to anyone with what you know in person, I won't hesitate to come and kill them and you, myself. And it won't be quick. You'll want it to be quick, but I won't let you die. I'll keep you alive, and clinging to hope that someone will help you." He releases his hold on her and takes a few steps back. No need to make people around curious or suspicious.

    “Better hurry up and get there, then.” Gladion is turning away again, this time with his hands deep in his pockets as he makes his way for Malie city once more. He planned on catching a ride to Tapu, and then walking to the mart.

    [Name] watches him go, If she didn’t tell someone what just happened, a human death would be caused by her. She swallows, and tries to chase the thought from her head. Type: Null was quite the closed book. His cover said irritation, anger, and impatience, but there had to be something buried there, and she was curious to find out, although hoped there wouldn’t be a trail of death left in the wake.

    And now that she’d seen him with her own two eyes, she could see a very clear resemblance in him and the woman who runs the Aether Foundation. There was absolutely no proof, and with the rumors that Type: Null had originated from the Foundation could just be tricking her mind into a placebo, she wasn’t ready to ignore it just yet.

* * *

 

    Gladion spun the chamber on his revolver in a pattern. Two quick downstrokes, and then he watch as it slowed, and then turned it the other way with a single flick of his thumb. The old gun had been his father’s, and when the man disappeared, this was all that was left of him. His mother would probably kill him if she got her hands on him. And Gladion had thought she was crazy before then, too.

     He isn’t waiting too long, so Gladion isn’t forced to dwell on thoughts for long, there are voices and footsteps approaching. He stops spinning the chamber, there were six bullets in it already, and he readies his weapon. Through the broken windows, he can make out the figure of [Name] as she pushes someone else’s arm away. The male looked like he was in dire need of a shower. And the obvious irritation from [Name] didn’t stop him as he kept poking at her shoulder, or attempting to wrap his arm around her like a significant other would.

   “-you’ve never accepted my invites before, what happened? Why’d ya’ change your mind?” So he’d tried to get close to her before? This wouldn’t surprise anyone. Plus the guy seemed clueless.

    “Nothing’s changed. I’m just shorter on cash this month than usual.”

    “Oh. So you’re only here for the pictures?” He sounds somewhat disappointed.

    “Exactly, so what do you want for them.” Gladion can see her disgust as the guy leans close to her. She looks ready to slap him, before turning away. She doesn’t seem very happy about. They have a short conversation, one a little too happy. . .and the other, less than enthused about the decision.

    It’s not long before [Name] is ducking into the supermarket. The boarded up doorway long since broken into making it simple to get inside of the place. [Name] gets in faster than the other seems to struggle as his shirt gets caught on an old nail. Gladion readies his weapon. He has it all assembled and ready to shoot. [Name] is suddenly close by. So she didn’t fear him, but she was wary of this loser? Gladion might need to set her priorities straight.

    “[Name]?” The unnamed male calls out into the near-empty store. However, he walks in further like the idiot he is, and Gladion pulls back the hammer on the gun. A faint click echoing and reverberating into the air which catches the attention of the newcomer.

    A look of betrayal crosses his face, and it’s like he doesn’t recognize who’s in front of him. “You set me up!” He’s pointing an accusing finger towards [Name]. Her arms are crossed and she doesn’t look happy.

    “Where are the pictures?” Gladion asks, ignoring the blubbering fool.

    “I don’t know what you’re-” Very quickly, Gladion’s wrist flicks downward ever so slightly. His finger pulls the trigger, and a bullet is released from the barrel, however hardly a sound is made from the special silencer developed by his father’s team, specifically for this gun. There is a scream which follows as ‘DarkKing’ falls to the floor pulling his now wounded leg close.

    “I won’t ask again.” Gladion speaks calmly, waiting. This time, the idiot doesn’t say anything and pulls a small clear box from his pocket. What looks like an SD card is inside of it. Another shot is fired, and the guy screams again. Now he’s softly crying. The bullet had ripped through the box, and then into the side of his ribcage.

    “So, what’s he to you?” Gladion asks, turning partly towards [Name]. He’s not actually curious just likes drawing out the time.

    “He’s been stalking me since I started college last fall. He’s a complete pervert.” Gladion had gotten that much before hand. However, when his gaze returns to the man, he’s shocked to find he’s actually trying to crawl away, towards the door. Now, he couldn’t have that, now could he?

    With slow deliberate steps, Gladion walks towards the guy, his foot planting on his back before shoving him to lie on the glass shards scattered about. “Was this all the evidence you had of me?” He asks slow, much like those people who think the slower they talk to someone of a different ethnicity with no prior knowledge of the language, will suddenly understand it.

    “Y-yes!” He’s crying, no surprise. Those bullets hurt like a bitch. They were designed similarly to the Minie Ball. A soft bullet which would flatten out on impact and will shatter or puncture just about anything. His femur was probably broken, and that pain is described as something just as painful as childbirth. Not to mention many ribs were probably completely shifted. There was something else special about his bullets, the would decay and leave almost no trace of ever being there. Plus, the interior of each was infused with boron tetrafluoride. In other words, do not mess with him.

    “Please, I- I want to live. There is no other place with the information!” A wide cruel smirk forms on Gladion’s lips as he turns his attention back to [Name]. She’s not even looking this way.

     “[Surname]. How’s it feel, to see this trash groveling?” He lifts his foot, only to roll the guy over, he’s groaning and trying to clutch his sides. The tetrafluoride compound was probably entering his system by now. If the increase of volume said anything.

     She doesn’t respond and looks somewhat sick while she watches the guy squirm in pain.

     “How’d ya get the images anyways?” Gladion turns his head down to him, and when he doesn’t get an answer, he kicks ‘DarkKing’.

    “I-I was trying to follow Faba. . .From the Foundation. And-” Gladion knew what happened after that. He shot the old geezer through the head. He never liked Faba anyways. Kept too many things restricted from Gladion. Pulling the hammer back once more, Gladion shoots one last time. And he’s close enough for blood to splatter back towards him.

    When it’s finally silent, Gladion pulls a cloth from a pocket on the inside of his jacket, he wipes the gun clean and begins to disassemble it. [Name] doesn’t seem impressed. Although, Gladion was impressed with her. She didn’t throw up for one. And also the fact that she hadn’t gone to the police. However, he wasn’t about to risk that either. They never discussed what would happen after the threat was gone.

   Striding over to her, the male gazes down his nose to her. She seemed very lost in thought. Very different from how she was earlier. Then again, he hadn’t actually killed someone earlier.

    “Ever been to Po Town?” His smirk is gone, along with any emotion he had when killing the guy.

    She shakes her head slowly.

    “I can’t hear your head rattle, [Name].” Now she’s glaring up at him. It’s a weak glare. If this is all it took to break her, then he might as well kill her now.

    But before he can do anything else, she lifts a hand to slap him. She doesn’t get far, her wrist tightly encircled by Gladion’s own hand stops the action.

    “Oh, come on. I insist. Po Town’s a great place. . .In other words,” At first he sounded somewhat persuasive, now he’s just cold and too the point. “I won’t be taking no, for an answer.”

 

 _What will you do?_  
  
_-Go with him willingly_  
_-inquire as to what is_ _in the town - sound interested._  
_-Plain out refuse_  
_-Push him away, your job is done, you don't want to be around him anymore._  
_-Look at the corpse, then at Gladion, ask him "Why?"_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you do?
> 
> _-Look at the corpse, then at Gladion, ask him "Why?" - 3 people_  
>  -Plain out refuse - 1 person  
>  **-inquire as to what is in the town - sound interested. - 7 people**  
>  -Go with him willingly - 2 people  
> -Push him away, your job is done, you don't want to be around him anymore. - 1 person
> 
>  
> 
> ...I fee like my options are a little too obvious.

_ “Oh, come on. I insist. Po Town’s a great place. . .In other words,” At first he sounded somewhat persuasive, now he’s just cold and too the point. “I won’t be taking no, for an answer.” _

__ Would it even be appropriate to slap him? [Name] didn’t know. She was confused, sure it was nice to have the creep permanently off her case, but killing him? How should someone take this kind of situation when it’s handed to them so suddenly.

    “No, I’ve never been there.” She answers meekly. She sounds stiff and unsure of herself. Gladion is somewhat annoyed at her tone. She had more fire in her with a gun to her gut. “Although, I’ve heard it’s interesting.” He gives a slight smirk to this, Gladion finally releasing her from his tight grip.

    “Interesting doesn’t begin to cover it.” She’s pulled to his side before he begins to escort her towards the front of the mart again. [Name] seems shellshocked in his grip. So she did have some weakness. She was a hell of a good bluffer.

    “Ever play poker?” She strikes up as she ducks down under the broken boards.

    “No, well, not for money or anything.” her tone was getting back to what Gladion was first exposed to. She wasn’t there yet but recovering. Hell, she could make an actual useful Skullie if she could get used to this sort of thing.

    “Any good at it?” He follows, her gaze is on the black sandy beach, staring but not seeing.

    “Don’t know.” Wow, very useful.

    He doesn’t pursue the topic, instead lets it sink, for now. But he did want to know, she could get him a lot of pocket cash from the idiots back at town. Maybe, potential skill wasn’t confirmed yet.

    In Tapu, no one is the wiser as to what has gone on just a short distance away, Gladion pulls out his cell, in seconds he’s calling someone. He didn't bother with being very discrete, the place seemed dead as it was. 

    “Who is it?” A woman snaps on the other line, she was the second highest in terms of rank, she didn’t like people calling in without warning.

    “Got a body.” Gladion doesn’t bother with introductions either.

    “Damnit Gladion, where the hell is this one.” [Name] is watching with slight interest as the Gladion’s emotions seem to show through for milliseconds before morphing back and forth.

    “Abandoned supermart. This guy isn’t all that important, but I shot him three times.”

    “What the hell! Those bullets are expensive, you fuck wad!” There is an intake of breath, too.

    “Fine, whatever. I’ll put the new gal on it.” At this, the line goes dead, and Gladion smirks. So there really was a new kid. He turns to [Name], she was pretty much radiating curiosity.

    “In all my research, I never came up with anything about a woman being high up in Skull.” She’s mumbling, looking to the ground.

    “She calls herself everyone’s sister. Mess with one of us, and if she has the fortune to hear about you’ll have the unfortunate to deal with ‘er. If you think I was cruel, Plume’ll have your body parts scattered from here to Sinnoh. Well, if she’s feeling nice about it.” the woman next to him shuts up quick, but she still looks like she had a few hundred more questions.

    One thing was for certain, Gladion was sharing information. Either he no longer saw her as a threat, much like his last kill, or he had plans.

 

    The two travel in semi-silence, reaching another beachfront relatively quickly. From there renting one of the small ferry boats to cross route fifteen. The meadow was hell to walk through. Dark and foggy? Not a good combination. Plus the fact no one liked to come out this way. The meadow was a bit overrun. To say the least. It was the perfect place for Skull to grow most of their supplies. The heat in the area made it damn near impossible for any thermal readers to pick up what wasn’t suppose to be there.

    [Name]’s hand was covering her nose in less than a minute, her eyes looked like they were ready to start a spring.

    “What, never been around Hemp?” He chuckles a bit deeply. Some of the plants had been there years before Skull got there. Just made it all the easier to start the place up. Use the weak shit, and raise up the food chain. (By using the chain smokers, anyway.)

     “No. But, it smells really sweet.”

     “This is the weak shit, well when it comes to the buzz you get. This shit is safer than what the tobacco companies put out.” The boards creak under foot, he should probably warn her about the broken boards. [Name] shouts out a curse. Oh well, too late.

    “Hurry up, I’d like to get there before nightfall.” Gladion turns to see her knee deep in mud. Great. His gaze is less than impressed as she pulls herself out, grumbling about how he would be owing her some new shoes. Yeah, hell will freeze over first.

    “A little help wouldn’t kill ya, you know.” She shakes some of the clumps off, the deep musk of the churned up peat brought a foul odor into the air.

    “But I could kill you.” If shut could go up, it would have happened right then.

    [Name] was becoming an unexplainable phenomenon in his life. He was comfortable around her, at least enough that he didn’t have her at gunpoint. Besides, he could easily do just that. But she seemed far too comfortable around him. As though she either didn’t care or kept forgetting just who she was traveling with. Talking casually wasn’t exactly smart. He wasn’t in line to making this a friendship. He didn’t need anyone but himself. Sure having the team to fall back on was nice, but most of them avoided him, to begin with, so it amounted to nearly nothing.

    In any case, he wasn’t attached, wasn’t becoming attached, and wouldn’t become so, ever. She was expendable. Possibly useful, but expendable. (And if he could get something on the side, sure, he’d go for it.)

    Passing by the old cop shop worked out well. Who lived there again? It didn’t matter. The guy was probably neck deep in their stash every other day. (At least.)

    Talk about a corrupt police officer. He may or may not be considered a cop anymore, Gladion didn’t care, who knows, he’s got enough cats around, maybe he’s mistaken nip for weed. (Only plus side to the guy being around, there were practically no rodents within twenty miles of this place. Gladion had never seen a rat - the fuzzy kind - in Po Town.)

    As they get closer, [Name] starts to notice the rain drops falling steadily from the sky. She’s grumbling ‘ _ Oh, how could this get any worse. _ ’ Oh, it gets worse, just wait. There are two guards outside. One of them seems disinterested when he sees Gladion get close, the other’s eyeing [Name] up like she’s the best thing since sliced bread.

    “So. . .She new? Or like a toy?” Was he daft? Of course, she’s a toy. And if it wasn’t obvious, Gladion wasn’t one to like the idea of sharing. He was ready to draw and aim, however to his surprise, [Name] beat him to the punch. (Which wasn’t exactly pleasing.) Her slap rang out just as clear as any bullet would have. One of the two is laughing while Gladion unlocks the door.

    “Don’t even think about touching her,” he speaks when the man [Name] slapped seemed ready to retaliate against her, but holds his place. Instead touches a finger to his cheek where he had been struck, grimacing. She had one hell of a backhand.

    The blonde grips [Name]’s arm, and pulls her through the large steel door, He’s pulling his hood up, although he knows from experience how effective that will be.

    “What the hell?” Gladion can barely hear his company over the sudden bellowing winds and heavy rainfall from inside the city. Interesting, indeed.

    “Did I forget to mention the rain?” He asks sarcastically before he’s shoving her forward. The sooner they got moving, the sooner they could take cover.

    “This shouldn’t be possible-” She’s shouting.

    “Like I said, interesting.” Annoyance is snaking into his tone. “Now get your ass in gear, and start walkin’ forward.” Thankfully she goes quiet and does as told. Gladion had had a pounding headache since they met. And that was. . .Approximately eight hours prior. Wonderful.

    Now, why hadn’t he killed her yet? It would be simpler after all. And headache free! (Fuck, what was this, an infomercial?)

    As soon as they are under the shelter of the mansion’s awning, [Name] is shivering, holding her arms and everything. It may have been cute if they weren’t in the heart of a Mafia-run town, and Gladion wasn’t a hitman. Oh well.

    “Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t look at anyone, and I swear I’ll shoot you before I ask, if you fuck anyone.”

    “Where are you going?”

    “Need to let the boss know there’s shit hitting the fan.” He doesn’t explain more as he’s entering the place, although before he closes the door he leans out with a few more words.

    “Find some place to hunker down. Just remember what I told you.”

  
_ What will you do? _ __  
__  
_ -Explore, he didn’t say where to hunker down. _ __  
_ -Go inside, find someplace dry. _ __  
_ -You passed a truck about yonder away, maybe that will be cleaner than the smell which came through the door? _ __  
_ -Might as well sit here, and ignore anyone who comes close. That guy is batshit crazy. _ _  
_ __ -Boss? No one knew who bosses around these lunatics, check it out yourself!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you do?  
>  _-You passed a truck about yonder away, maybe that will be cleaner than the smell which came through the door? - 0_  
>  -Go inside, find someplace dry. -3  
> -Explore, he didn’t say where to hunker down. -3  
>  **-Might as well sit here, and ignore anyone who comes close. That guy is batshit crazy. -6**  
>  -Boss? No one knew who bosses around these lunatics, check it out yourself! -2  
>  **Strikes ½**  
>  _/It has now come to forth to explain the strike system to this story. There were 2 “strikes” but different choices have a different strike value. This choice was 1 strike. A death choice is 2 strikes. But, if the story gets to 2 strikes total, it will end. Three consecutive 0 strike chapters will have to come up before the strike marked, is taken down. (Strike values will start to go down as the story continues.) Good luck everyone!/_

    Sitting down with a sigh, not wanting to risk upsetting the guy, [Name] turned her attention to the cracking stone of the steps where she sat. At once, her mind seemed to go into hyper drive.

_ What do I now know… _

_     The woman said ‘Gladion’ was that his real name? Likely. _

_     Po Town was in worse condition than anyone seemed to care about, not all that great of a story. _

__ Her thoughts were all like this, as though she were taking mental notes and trying to figure out how she could report all of the information. But what would the point be? Even if she got this information there was little chance she’d get the chance to actually do anything worthwhile with it. If she got up and left, there would be witnesses, and Gladion would likely be able to catch her. Hell, he knew what she looked like now, too. He found her with nearly nothing, before. He could do it again much easier.

    Yet another sigh parted her lips. But this time [Name] buried her face in her hands. This place was horrible. But the question she needed ask, was if she’d rather be dead. . .

    Death didn’t exact scare the woman. She always prided herself in that, if she was going to die, so be it. But it wouldn’t stop her from trying to save someone else, either. It had been a situation like such which had given her the life she had now. Her parents killed in a hit and run accident. Their daughter had been there with them moments before but had run off the curb in the opposite direction. There was a small turtle in the road, and she didn’t want it to get hit.

    And nearly nine years later, she was a Sophomore in college, struggling with a part-time job, - shit she didn’t show up today, make that ‘probably fired from part time job’ - and now she was in the middle of a crack town. Wonderful, simply wonderful.

    While she was deep in these thoughts, [Name] had become unaware of some people approaching. Two men and a woman, the gal says something to get her attention.

    “‘Ey, come on. Pick your head up.” Although she doesn’t do exactly this, [Name] did, however, let her hands go back to her lap. Gladion said not to look at or talk to anyone, and let’s not forget the ‘not to fuck anyone’ bit, either. (No chance of that happening.)

     “Are you fucking deaf?” One of the men pipe in, he has stepped in front of her, and his sneakers are in view.

    “Hey, bro, calm down-” The other’s voice sounds familiar. “This is the bitch Gladion picked up, the one I was tellin’ ya about.”

_ Bitch? Then again the guy did get a pretty nasty backhand. _

    “Well, I don’t see him around. I say we do as we please.”

_ Umm, hell no. _ Now, [Name] lifts her head, sending a somewhat strong glare at the guy. He’s got a stronger physique about him compared to the one who had been guarding the front not long ago. The woman seems uninterested, she’s picking at her nails.

    “So, this turnin’ into a foursome, now?” She’s raising a brow as she gazes at [Name], she doesn’t seem to mind though, in fact, she kind of looks excited about it.

    “Now that’s what I’m talking about!” She’s prompted to give a high five to the more intimidating of the other guys. The one who has seen the wrath of [Name]’s backhand, however still looks rather uneasy.

    “Thanks, but no thank you.” Two of Gladion’s rules broken, wonderful. But it was to try and keep from the third one being broken, maybe he’d understand? Oh well, too late now.

    “I don’t think you understand the pecking line around here…” He has turned back to [Name], now. His eyes are narrowed and a deep scowl over his lips. He was almost as intimidating as Gladion, and this guy didn’t have a weapon out.

 

    “Fuck!” There is a muffled shout when Gladion had brought his hand up to the door knob. He had a bad habit of not knocking, and he knew for a fact he almost just walked in on the Boss handling some personal work.

    No one knew what happened to the last person who walked in on the boss, but that rusting stain on his wall of graffiti was a pretty big hint. Gladion’s hand falls back to his side, and he turns, this was none of his business. Plus whoever it was was getting louder. The male’s hands were deep in his pockets as he started back downstairs. However, something stops him as he reaches the stop of the staircase, he gazes at the front door, someone is shouting outside, (Not a big surprise, if he were being honest.)

    It’s a few seconds later when the door opens, and he watches [Name] be dragged in. Two guys dragging her in, one of them seems satisfied while the other looks like he’d rather not be involved. Although, it’s quite the sight to see as she tries to fight back. Kicking and struggling while cursing them out. He was going to go find Plumeria, she should be around somewhere, but she already knew about the body and had some new person taking care of the job. He could report in later. If he remembered. It wouldn’t be the first time he had conveniently forgotten about something.

    But for now, He leaned his arms against the thick wooden rails around the balcony like second floor. The male really didn’t like the thought of any of them messing around with her, but watching her deal with the idiots was quite amusing. Really he could put a bullet through any one of them, but that wouldn’t go down too well with the boss or Plumeria.

    Gladion thinks on his choices a while. In the meantime, [Name]’s been thrown onto a ratty old green couch. She bit one of them. Not smart, who knows where they have been. By the time she’s being scolded, and cursed at as well, Gladion’s finally made up his mind to go in and rescue his toy before she’s tampered with or marked up.

    “You’re going to pay for that you wench-” [Name] is closing her eye and turning away from the male who was ready to slap her. Instead, the string oh his hand never comes into contact with her skin, and she peeks an eye open to see Gladion holding the other’s wrist, much like he had caught her own back at the Supermarket. 

    “I’m going to pretend I didn’t see you messing with her,” He says his gaze slowly turning towards the male from [Name]. His reaction is to pull away, his hands shove deep into his pockets as he stalks away. . .He would be lucky if he woke up the next morning.

    “Come on,” He gestures to [Name] on the couch, she gets up and follows almost half-heartedly. She realizes to herself that she may have been able to get out of that situation thanks to Gladion, but no one would save her from him.

    He leads her into what looks like a game room, it’s nearly vacant save for one other guy, who takes one look at who enters and takes a few long strides to get out. Hell, [Name] almost felt like Gladion could be the boss the way people avoided confronting him. She is instructed to close and lock the door and does so with a sinking heart. However, She turns around, he’s got a bottle of some kind of alcohol, one of those frosted blue bottles which are probably really expensive, two shot glasses, and a deck of cards.

    “Sit, now.” If it were almost anyone else in the world, [Name] would have pulled the sarcasm card, and sat by the door. Instead, she pulls a rickety chair up to the table.

    “Poker...really?” Gladion gives a half smirk.

    “Sure, we’ll go with poker.”

    “Don’t have anything of my own to bet.” Her eyes land on the bottle. It appears to be some kind of rum.

    “Sure you do.” He sits and begins to shuffle the well-used cards. Looks like they’ve been subject to quite a few deals, and soon the task happens again. One card to [Name], one to Gladion, two, two. He lays the next five out on the table. Flipping over a queen of hearts, an ace of spades, and a ten of diamonds.

    In her hand, the old maid, or Queen of Spades in hand along with one of the Suicidal Kings, this one the King of Hearts.

    So far, a pair, this was a good bet as it was a high pair.

    “A shot to the loser.” Gladion calls.

    “Loser removes shirt.” [Name] says back, to which he’s smirking.

    “Either you’ve got a good hand, or you’re quite good at bluffs.” He muses while flipping over the next card. Another Queen, this hand was quite good.

    “Two shots.” He really wanted to get her drunk, wow.

    “Three shots and the shirt.” [Name] blinks slowly, and Gladion flips over the last card, King of Spades.

    “Three of a kind.” Gladion had the third queen. He was pouring the shot, ready to hand it over.

    “Three of a kind, and a pair.” she lays her two cards down, and his smirk disappears, but he downs the drink quickly, and follows by pulling off his jacket. His next two shots go down while [Name] shuffles and deals.

    Although, it’s while she’s dealing that she gets an idea. [Name] grins, if she got him drunk enough, she’d probably be able to ask him any question she wanted to, and he probably wouldn’t remember in the morning. Plus if the luck continued like this, it wouldn’t take long at all to get him wasted.

    “Winner decides at the end.” She calls, to which Gladion shrugs.

    “Fine by me.”

    He ended up with three fours, and she had a pair of ace, and a pair of sevens. Gladion took two more shots and quickly dealt out the next hand. With [Name] losing a close hand, he orders a single drink, and to remove her shirt. His cheeks are flush, and she know’s it’s not from her half-exposed chest.

    They deal out a few more hands, [Name] winning most of them, although she was starting to feel a buzz by the end of it. An easy going smile lifting her lips as she leans an elbow on the table. It was actually nice to be out of the wet clothing, she wouldn’t mind getting out of the rest of them either at this point. But that was as far as anything would go before she went to locate something dry. (There was something on the couch nearby but she couldn’t make out the shape of the crumpled up article. It could be a blanket for all she knew.)

    Although, Gladion can’t seem to shuffle the cards very well anymore. Instead of the skill a casino worker would blush at, he was fumbling and dropping cards.

    [Name] decided it was now or never. “So, what are you doing here, as a Skull?” She leans onto her elbows, and Gladion slowly turns his gaze up to her. She stands slowly and moves around the table, pulling up a stool from nearby. Her hand on his arm as she leans closer.

    “I mean, really someone like you could probably do well on his own.” She gives a snort and gives up on the cards.

    “I could, and I did.” Some of his words are a bit slurred, his own gaze narrowed and she thought for a moment he was about to pass out. However, he is suddenly leaning forward, his arms moving over his head to grip the back of his shirt, and pulling the long sleeved article over his head. He leans back stretching his arms and sighing out in content. However, a large scar covers a large sum of his body. Neither end of it are visible to [Name]. It starts somewhere on his back, and wraps around over his left shoulder, down over his chest, and slowly going towards the right side of his body. It disappears near his right hip, but the end of it covered by his jeans.

    Gladion grimaces, as though the stretch somewhat hurt. That was a scar that would likely be tender many, many years after it happened. He idly traces a finger over the marred flesh with a weak excuse of a chuckle. It was mostly due to alcohol, but [Name] couldn’t tell if there was something more.

    “Kind of hard to take on Aether by myself.” He mumbles his gaze lifting to the ceiling, is cloudy, again most alcohol. “Skull has a similar goal. To get rid of those bastards.” [Name doesn’t need to speak, he just keeps going, and she knew he was definitely drunk enough to forget about this in the morning.

    “Finally killed the ass who did this to me.” His hand lifts up his fringed hair, another scar over his face. This one much thinner, but it moves like a crescent moon. Part of it through his brow, around his eye, and curves before ending near the ear lobe.

    “I’ll… get every last one of ‘em.” His words are slowly down, getting harder to decipher. And his gun is pulled out suddenly. He turns it in his hand, and it must be pure muscle memory which makes the movement look quite fluid.

    “I’ll get ‘em with the gun father made.” He nods definitely, although he seems to struggle to get his head back up. His grip is beginning to loosen around the handgun, and [Name reaches forward to grab it. He pulls her close to his chest in the same moment. He’s humming and runs his fingers over her shoulder. Gladion is drunkenly mumbling something under his breath, it’s too quiet and slurred to make out.

    “I’m sure you can do it,” [Name] tried to pull out of his grasp, he might be flush from the alcohol, but she sure wasn’t.

    “Come on, get up,” She is able to get the gun on the table. And somewhat hoist the male up. Gladion had a real bone to pick with Aether, that was obvious, and the motive thus far sounded like abuse caused to him. The two stumble over to the couch, where Gladion sort of falls onto the old furniture. There is stuffing poking through the all the cushions, and it looks like the spring bed was broken the way the couch sagged in the middle under any amount weight.

    Dusting her hands, [Name] hears Gladion mutter something which sounds like a curse directed at a family member. Specifically his mother.

   It was hard to make out, she could have been mistaken too, but [Name] was nearly sure he had said ‘Lusamine’. So, not only was he a former member of Aether, but he was suppose to be the next one to take over the so-called, Family Business.

  
  


_ What will you do? _

_ -Get out of there, you could get a lot of money with this information and go right to the police _

_ -Find a blanket, something to write with, and paper. You don’t want to forget anything. _

_ -Find a place to sleep - it’s been a long day. _

_ -It was actually warmer without the soaked shirt - find something dry to wear, and go to sleep. _

_ -Explore the place, maybe there is more information to be found. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you do?  
>  _-Find a blanket, something to write with, and paper. You don’t want to forget anything. - 2_  
>  -Explore the place, maybe there is more information to be found. - 0  
>  **-It was actually warmer without the soaked shirt - find something dry to wear and go to sleep. - 9**  
>  -Get out of there, you could get a lot of money with this information and go right to the police. -0  
> -Find a place to sleep - it’s been a long day. -5  
> Strikes 1/2

    Something which had previously gone unnoticed by [Name], was how she had stopped shivering as much after Gladion ordered her shirt off. Now, she had stripped out of her bottoms and was searching the room for something which didn’t smell putrid and was dry. (It was a small room, and the options may have to lead into the prior category.)

   After a while she was able to locate a tank top underneath the couch Gladion was draped over. He was laying on his stomach, more scars littered his back but unlike the other two, these seemed to have more consistency, as though they were deliberate. In fact, upon closer inspection, they actually looked a lot more like brandings.

   But the door handle suddenly shaking on the door lurched [Name] out of the slight trance, she grabbed the over-sized tank, tossing it on. However, whoever had tried to get in the room stopped almost at once and whoever it was moved on. Sighing out, she had forgotten about the prior fascination with what was on Gladion’s back and instead retreated to a chair on the opposite side of the room.

   A spring was poking through the cushion, a few of the coils visible, but it wasn’t sharp. Pressing it down back into the chair was somewhat difficult, wiggling the metal until it caught somewhere where it wasn’t popping back up.

   Although she had to admit, the tank was actually very comfortable. It had to be a larger size because tank tops didn’t have any logic. The bigger the size, the longer they got. They all looked like they were made for walking sticks but just got. . .Longer. Either way, it looked like a cheap ass dress, and it was actually comfortable, let’s get over this subject, shall we?

 

   Sleep had been hard to come by, and waking up felt like it came before she even fell asleep. However, even in such a groggy state, she felt right away something was going on. Right now it was just voices, not quite legible, but soon coming into focus.

   “-the hell you think you are?” This voice, masculine and somewhat annoyed.

   “I think,” It’s Gladion, he sounds equally annoyed. “I’m tired as fuck right now, and I’ve got a headache.”

   “Rum? Really? Gladion, you know you can’t hold your liquor.” This voice sounded amused and very feminine. A sound of liquid being swirled around in a glass bottle followed the words.

   “Fuck off, I didn’t think I’d lose so many hands of Poker.” Now the blonde (The only one you know for sure is blonde.) is grumbling.

   “Gladion losing at something, ohhh.”

   “Hush.” Another feminine voice, however, this sounds more like the one who Gladion had Called after killing that other reporter.

   “Fine, fine-Oh wait.” There are some footsteps, muffled by the gross shag carpet that is literally worn down to the floor. “Can I wake the sleeping beauty?” She(?) sounds much closer now, and some more footsteps follow her words before it sounds like a slight scuffle. Taking in a slightly sharper breath, the two return to the other conversation which had continued.

   “-don’t give a damn what the hell you think you are doing today. Ya didn’t fuckin’ tell me where the hell you were-”

   “I didn’t sign up to be treated like a kid, Guzma. I killed someone to settle a personal score and I did the job you told me to do, so lay the fuck off.”

   “You’ve got balls. I can say that, but whatever you wanted to do, I don’t give a damn.” This other guy’s tone is getting lower, harder to hear. “You’re going to do the damn mission, and you’re leaving now.”

   “Yeah. Sure.” Gladion scoffs, but not in a back talk kind of way. Whoever the three are, they were leaving. If the footsteps had anything to say about it. One of the women speak a soft tone, she doesn’t speak loud enough for [Name] to hear, however, it’s very evident that Gladion isn’t amused about it in the slightest.

   “Don’t even think about it, Plumeria,” He hisses something else out, but the door closes then. Silence falls over the room, not even any sounds come from the hall after a while.

   “You can stop with the act.” Gladion grumbles. Figuring it would be better to listen to him, [Name] sits up, stretching slightly. Although grimacing as she sits up, [Name] discovers the spring had unlatched from where it had been stuck sometime while she attempted to rest.

   Her gaze, however, finds Gladion, the large tear over his chest and torso catching her attention, but not quite. Still, the man under her intense gaze scowls, not appreciating her (to him,) scrutinizing look.

   “Get dressed, and meet me outside of town.” He grumbled, his shirt falling down over his chest before his jacket is pulled on. He looks around the room, slight panic in his gaze before landing on his pistol on the table. He walks over, grabbing the weapon. As he turns his gaze lands on [Name], malice lingers across his face before he turns and stalks out of the room, he slams the door behind him.

   Sighing, she gets up, locating her clothing from the night before, (Which had been draped over the chairs to dry.) Although they aren’t fully dry, it would be better than just the tank. Pulling off, and then on the proper clothing, she is making her way out into the hallway. Tracing her way back to the front entrance.

   (It seemed everyone here seemed to be quite the night owls, there were a lot of people sleeping, just about everywhere.) At least the lack of interest from people made it easier to get outside. Gladion apparently had figured she’d taken way too long to do so, as he was tapping a foot in annoyance, by his feet, two large cases, and one about half the size of the other two. As soon as [Name]’s out of the front door, he is grabbing one of the bright silver cases and shoving it into her arms.

   “We’re leaving.” He grabs the remaining cases and sets a fast pace to get out of there. Since his conversation with the other Skull members, he seems very on edge. It was quite obvious there had been a bit of an argument with his boss.

   The weight of the case is a bit of an annoyance to [Name] as she shifts it a few times between each hand trying to find an easier medium. Gladion’s already getting hard to spot in the storm, and she gives chase. So much for drying her clothes out. (Did no one have an umbrella here?)

   It’s raining harder outside of town, now. But the majority of the storm seemed to stay over the city. Either way, catching up to him didn’t happen until he was nearly to the meadow. How in the world was he carrying two of these damn things? (More importantly, what was in them? Wait, no, she didn’t want to know.)

   This time going over the boardwalk, [Name] is more observant of the boards, making sure she doesn’t fall through this time. About half way through the meadow, [Name] switched which hand she was carrying the case with, it was damn heavy.

   She tries to initiate a conversation, but Gladion is distracted. Seriously, at this point, she was confused why the hell she didn’t just piss him off. Whatever was going on, was probably not going to be safe. Hell, for all she knew, he might be bringing her with to use as a meat shield.

   Case switch again, Seriously, how was he not affected? Either way, they get to the sandy beach front of the route fifteen. To the right of them is a few boat sheds. One of them looks a lot worse than the others, Gladion is walking right towards it. When he gets close, he places both of the cases on the ground, pulling a keyring with a few different keys on it from one of his many pockets. On the door, there are multiple locks, probably one for each of the keys.

   When she gets close, [Name] breathes a sigh of relief, she’s ready to drop the case she’s carrying when Gladion kicks the door open. Apparently, there wasn’t an actual latch. Groaning, she follows him inside but does drop the handled square as soon as she’s cleared the doorway.

   Plus the darkness in Po town hadn’t been all from the lack of light being able to get through the cloud coverage, but it was still rather early in the morning, too. (Plus they were on the west side of a mountain.) So there was quite the lack of light able to reach into the shed. There is some shuffling from somewhere to [Name]’s right, and a soft sound which could only be identified as a switch flicking, but between the lack of light flooding the shed, and Gladion’s cursing it was easy to deduct the power was either out, or the light bulbs were burned or even broken. There is a second sound, this one harder to make out before a slight rumbling sounded and some light pooled in from the opposite side of the shed. So the electricity was on, at least.

   Inside there are boats, four of them, all in different stages of condition, though none of them look all that great. Gladion is nowhere to be seen, yet his footsteps are kind of loud as he walks around on one of the boats.

   From there, [Name] notices he’s checking the vessels to see if they will start. He had jumped over to the second one after the first’s engine failed to even make a sound.

   After starting the second one, he reappears and is loading the cases into the front. “Take the keys and lock the door again. I’ll pick you up around on the beach.” Even in the dim shed, the way his gaze lingers is unsettling.

   “Yeah, sure. Got it.” She nods, and takes the keys he is handing over, doing the spoken task. Outside, she grumbles a bit to herself, mostly about not being a pack mule, or small grumbles in consideration if she should just run off or not.

  Outside, standing on the shore with waves lapping at her shoes, [Name] watches as the boat backs from the shed fully and is maneuvered towards where she stood. In somewhat better light, it’s easy to see the white stripes and skull emblem on the side of the ship, but otherwise, it’s difficult to make out the exact shape. It is obvious, however, that the boat really isn’t all that large, and is able to get quite close to the shore.

   Pulling her shoes off, and pulling up the length of her pants, she is able to get to the boat with the water brushing up against her knees. [Name] hoists herself up into the boat with some difficulty, after tossing her shoes in, and Gladion is taking off before she’s even pulled her footwear back on.

   Getting into the sheltered cockpit, (Was it a cockpit on a boat? Who cares.) [Name] looks around. It was probably stolen and then repainted by the looks of it. Wires were hanging down from the ceiling, none of the lights on the control panels worked, and what looked like a radar screen for fish was cracked and busted up.

   “How bad are the Skulls actually doing?” After seeing their living conditions for herself, [Name] was almost convinced that it wasn’t just lack of motivation in cleaning up after themselves.

   “Just be quiet, [Name].” Gladion’s brow is furrowed, and he looks somewhat lost in thought, it’s as though he needs to remember where he is going.

   So, she waits a while. It takes quite a while for Ula’ula to become a blob like shape on the horizon. Some color from the mountain is still there, and most of the shape is identifiable. Sitting on an old bucket wasn’t the most comfortable, but at least now Gladion seemed less tense.

   “Is it too soon to ask ‘what’s going on’?” [Name] prompts after a while, to which she gets a side glance from the male.

   “It was either come with me or join the bosses set of ‘playthings’ until I get back.”

   “Oh. Wait, bosses as in plural, or boss’s as in possessive?”

   “Both, but it doesn’t matter.”

   “I would say it matters-”

   “It’s not going to happen, so it doesn’t. Just drop it.” His tone has taken an edge, one which grows in intensity as he speaks.

   [Name] decides to risk changing the subject instead of being quiet. “In that case, where are we going?”

   “You ask too many questions.”

   “I’m finally getting answers.” He huffs, as though the sound would be his answer, [Name] is ready to twiddle her thumbs and find out when they get there, however, he does actually answer. The words somewhat mumbled.

   “The Aether Foundation.”

   “What, why?”

   “I will kill you-” He’s turning quickly, the seat making a loud screeching noise as he does so, neither are phased by the sound, or the conversation.

   “You haven’t yet.” [Name] meets his glare with her own gaze. His scowl hasn’t lost any of its power, but she’s beginning to feel like hiding from it won’t help her any more than not.

   “Don’t tempt me,” Gladion says on a hiss, and it’s now [Name] see’s he’s actually drawn his gun, it rests on his leg, but it is out. Her attention falls onto the pistol before meeting his again.

   “I have, many times actually.” He goes quiet again, his focus returning ahead of them. The screeching of the chair is drawn out this time as he faces the sea before him.

   “I have an assignment.”

   “You’re going to kill someone else, aren’t you?” Obviously, it was an assignment given to an assassin, unless he suddenly changed overnight and told the boss he wanted to deliver SKULL PIZZA. Yeah, he’d probably shoot himself first.

   His lack of a reply leaves the small room in an odd silence. It’s not really awkward, more so tense as the boat continues on. The engine didn’t sound very good, and [Name] is seriously hoping they won’t be stranded out there. Although it might just be the wind buffering the sound. She also hoped this was the case.

   “If you have a mission, won’t the boat be obvious?” A few hours had passed, the sun rising gradually higher in the sky.

   “This isn’t a sneak attack.” His tone has also fallen back into a monotonous state, making it impossible to tell whether or not he was angry or not. Probably, he’s a very angry person. Although, as silence falls, [Name] takes the chance to consider questions. Considering she had some information (surprisingly) from her now deceased competitor, and some she got from the drunken state her company had fallen into the night before, she was deducting things.

   “You said you killed Faba-”

   “No, that ignorant ass wipe said I did.”

   “While not directly,” [Name] continues as though he hadn’t jumped the guns, and when he doesn’t interfere this time, she continues. “Last night you showed me one of your scars. The one on your face, and said ‘finally killed the bastard who gave me this’.” [Name] finds herself swallowing when he doesn’t respond. However his grip on the accelerator has tightened, his knuckles turning white in the process.

   “So what, I take it you want to know my whole goddamned life story? Is that it, miss. Reporter?” He’s continuing before [Name] can retort that she didn’t, even though she kind of did, just didn’t want to piss him off any more than he already was.

   “Too bad, I’m not saying another word.” Yeah, his tone said nothing but anger. He looks like he’s concentrating again, but since [Name] had revealed she had talked to him while he was drunk, (and he didn’t remember any of it) he was probably figuring out by now it was kind of her plan to get some information out of him.

   “I should shoot you.” He mumbles after a while.

   “But?” [Name] draws out, but he doesn’t respond. Although she’s actually quite grateful for the cold shoulder, at least it wasn’t lead.

   Vocal wise, the boat is silent. Engine and wind wise? That was another story. With the lack of dialog, time seems to pass excruciatingly slow, finally, once again, [Name] breaks the silence. The question she was considering had been bothering her for a while.

  “Why are you going directly there, in daylight no less? This sounds like a suicide mission.”

   The reply is one she’s wasn’t exactly fond of, not at all fond of, considering she was with him. “It is.”

   However, there is no turning back now. There is a somewhat foggy shape of an approaching shape is ahead of them in the distance; The Aether Foundation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poll #5 Closed!  
> 


	6. SORRY

This particular version of the story is being discontinued!

I am no longer happy with this, BUT I will be doing something newer later on;

Now, this is an AN, and I particularly despise author's notes. So, once this has been up for a week or two, the whole work will be deleted.

I will explain quickly that this originally went on hold because of my own mental health - which has gotten no better - but stopping had been a mistake. With low motivation, I didn't want to continue, but writing helps keep me distracted from the very thing which stopped this fic from continuing.

I am very sorry if this was mistaken for a chapter, but this story was far too rushed for my tastes, the chapters a bit too long, the characters unrealistic, and not enough development between any of them.

I am not even sure I can portray any of those how I want to, but that is what practice is for.

The new fic will be similar to this one in a few ways.

It will still be a CYOA, and it will still keep the idea of Aether and Skull being mafias and such, so it will still be dark. Still no actual Pokemon. oops.

BUT it will be different in that I won't have a premade poll to vote on choices, there won't be voted on chapters at all. I plan on writing out every choice, so it is a TRUE CYOA with all the end routes, all the good routes, and everything inbetween. /I am totally not already regretting this at all./

**Author's Note:**

> FOR THE RECORD- In this insert, Gladion has a very specific type, and if the results which he doesn't approve of, appear, The reader will die and the story will end. I will not write any other variations of the story, so choose wisely!  
> This is based off a spew of head canons "TheTofuEatingCat"and I were doing. And then made possible from an RP with "DragonGirl4444" Thank both these lovelies for helping in the creation of this!
> 
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> **  
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> DO NOT COMMENT CHOICES. THE COMMENTS WILL BE DELETED. Thank you.  
>   
> 


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